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by pasteloblivion



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Short & Sweet, i don't know how to use tags, lmao i swear it's cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 22:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16606247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasteloblivion/pseuds/pasteloblivion
Summary: In which Marvin returns home from a business trip and reconnects with Whizzer.





	Home

Business trips, Marvin decided, were officially his least favorite thing. 

Seven days. That was how long he spent in the cheap motel room, stressing over the unworkable blueprints a customer in Detroit had left him to design. Seven days in an endless state of emergency, trying to solve a myriad of problems which arose at virtually every corner.

First, there had been trouble with the hotel. Though he knew that the Motor City Motel was a far cry from luxury, he certainly hadn’t expected his room to be reminiscent of a dumpster. It was the cheapest in the complex, the only vacant room available on such short notice. Large cracks lined the thin, plywood walls, revealing a set of equally broken paneling. There were several stains on the bedsheets, as though they hadn’t been washed in weeks. And every time a faucet was turned on, the scent of mildew overwhelmed him. He found no less than three cockroaches in the shower. After a frantic phone call with Whizzer, in which he may or may not have debated booking the next flight back, he ultimately chose to sleep in his car for the week.

Following that, his client was something similar to a modern-day tyrant. Marvin would talk with her twice a day to discuss the blueprints for her new office building. He’d show her the latest updates to the design, and more often than not she’d loathe them. In theory, her requests weren’t exactly abhorrent-- if anyone else had asked him to design a circular terrace, he wouldn’t have minded-- but her wretched attitude was something to behold. She’d slam a well-manicured hand to the table, pointing out each minuscule mistake, demanding that he start again from scratch. Once again, Marvin would call Whizzer to vent, referring to his client exclusively as the ‘wicked witch of the midwest’. 

Of course, there was also the issue regarding his boyfriend. God, he missed Whizzer. He felt like he was beginning to go mad. Despite their nightly phone calls, he wanted nothing more than to be back in New York. Whizzer’s voice was indeed his solace throughout the otherwise hellish week. Marvin would often picture himself back in the apartment, running a hand through his lover’s hair or stifling a laugh as he told a corny joke. He was an idiot, sure, but at least he was a lovestruck idiot. 

This cycle continued for one miserable week. He would wake up, rid himself of the inevitable back pain, plaster a smile on his lips as he pondered the drawbacks of quitting his job, and end the day with a lengthy phone call. Between meetings, he would feel nothing but anguish as he tossed failed blueprint after failed blueprint straight into the garbage can. Marvin soon found himself despising every minute of this schedule.

On the seventh day, however, his luck changed for the better. He swore he could hear a chorus of singing angels as he entered the meeting that morning, a fresh design in hand. He’d spent much of the previous night working on a model to satisfy the client’s complaints, albeit with the help of Whizzer’s eye for aesthetic. He recalled watching her facial expression alter, changing from annoyance to surprise. Only one word made its way to her lips. “Okay.”

He’d never felt relief flood throughout his body as quickly as it did in that moment.

That was at ten o’clock. He was on the plane by noon, positioned uncomfortably between a mother with her screaming toddler and an elderly man who sneezed uncontrollably. For once, the poor conditions didn’t bother him. His eyes closed. He was finally, finally on his way home.

\---

“Whizzer, baby? Are you here?” came the sound of Marvin’s voice, amplified by the acoustics of the hallway. The door closed behind him, shut by his foot as he struggled to balance two suitcases and a jacket in his grip. He heard no reply. 

The apartment was motionless. Whizzer was never in one place for too long, after all.

Marvin continued past the doormat, pausing first to remove his shoes. With glints of the midday sun steadily trekking past the windowsill, the living room was doused in gold. Fragments of light hit each corner with precision. The view made something within him stir with excitement, as though the room were a welcoming committee of its own. He bit back a smile. He was home.

“Whiz?” He peeked into the kitchen, but saw only a sink of dirty dishes. Typical. 

He repeated the process with every room, poking his head into the doorframe and finding nothing. His footsteps were muffled by the carpeted floors; the only sound was his voice. 

At last, Marvin thought he heard a snore coming from their bedroom. What the hell? Checking his watch, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Just shy of 3 o’clock. Yet again, typical. 

Marvin’s heart fluttered once again, this time with unadulterated joy, as he gently cracked open the door. 

The room was dark, to say the least. Curtains were drawn tightly against the windows. And the only light to be seen was the glow of a digital clock on the nightstand. In the middle of the bed was none other than his boyfriend, his hair tousled and sticking out. Whizzer’s expression was soft, any signs of worry slackened by sleep. He clung to the pillowcase. Even while resting, Marvin’s lover was beautiful. Breathtaking, even. 

“Whiz?” Another snore was the only response.

Marvin climbed into bed, pressing a kiss to Whizzer’s temple. Voice hardly above a whisper, he lovingly pestered the sleeping man. “Psst. Hey. Baby, wake up. I’m home.”

Whizzer stirred, his eyes still shut. “Shh… five more minutes…”

“It’s three o’clock, baby. I think you’ve had enough time.”

A tired grumble echoed throughout the cramped room. Slowly, Whizzer began to move. His hand absentmindedly reached across the sheets, and Marvin took the opportunity to intertwine their fingers. “I’m... not dreaming, am I?”

“Don’t think so, Whiz.”

Whizzer’s eyes quickly shot open. “Marv, sweetheart! Glad to see you’re still alive... I was starting to think that your client had,” he yawned, pressing his head to Marvin’s chest. “Just killed you, or something... “

Marvin chuckled. “Still alive, but I missed you so much I might as well have died.”  
“God, you’re cheesy.” The taller man stretched, revealing a maroon sleeve. “And I missed you too, y’know. Anyway, how was your week?”

Marvin faltered, his gaze fixed on Whizzer’s arm. The fabric was startlingly familiar. “Bad, but you already knew that. Is that my sweatshirt you’re wearing?”

Immediately, Whizzer detached from Marvin. Sliding under the blanket, he let out a scoff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, honey.”

A laugh tugged at Marvin’s lips. “C’mon, move the blanket!” 

“Never!”

Marvin grabbed the blanket. The conflict soon devolved into a glorified game of tug-o-war, both men giggling like school children as they pulled the covers in each direction. To anyone else, the scene might’ve been annoying. But to Marvin, any moment, no matter how odd, that he spent with Whizzer was considered worthwhile. He soon won the fight, grinning triumphantly as he tugged the sheets away from his boyfriend. “Aha!”

Whizzer was, in fact, wearing Marvin’s sweatshirt. He looked away, frowning theatrically. “Well, shit. Looks like I can officially never show my face again, Marv.”

“What, do you have a problem with my sweatshirt?” 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Whizzer shrugged. Marvin noticed that his cheeks had become a soft shade of pink. “Or maybe it’s a little embarrassing to be caught wearing your boyfriend’s clothing after he’s been gone for a week.”

Marvin’s brow furrowed. “That’s not embarrassing, Whiz. I don’t mind, but can I ask why you’re wearing it? You’ve told me before that my sense of style is pitiful.”

“I don’t know. It’s just comforting, I guess? I put it on after work every night because it smells like you. It was cold last night, so I wore it to bed. It kinda felt you were with me. Even if I don’t like your clothes, they’re still yours, after all,” Whizzer admitted.

Marvin blinked. “Do you do this every time I leave, baby?”

“Of course I do.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you, dumbass!”

A snort escaped Marvin’s mouth. “I love you too, idiot.”

Hardly containing a smile, Marvin readjusted the sheets. He beckoned Whizzer into his arms, pulling the younger man into a deep kiss. Their lips met for what felt like an eternity, dragging the rest of the world into a state of nothingness. It was just them, a bed, and the butterflies which arose in Marvin’s stomach.

God, he was glad to be home.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! i haven't written a fluffy whizzvin fic in months, and i have to admit that i loved every second of it. as always, feedback is appreciated! :-)


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